


Like Father, like Son.

by PentoPaper23



Series: "Us Starks are made of Iron" [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Hurt Pepper Potts, Hurt Peter, Hurt/Comfort, Irondad, Jarvis (Iron Man movies) is a Good Bro, Pepper Potts Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Peter Parker is Pepper Potts's Biological Child, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Peter Stark - Freeform, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Endgame, peter is a stark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-05-28 12:56:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19394602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PentoPaper23/pseuds/PentoPaper23
Summary: SPOILERS FOR ENDGAME!Five times that Peter reminded people of Tony and the one time that he saw it himself.





	1. The Workshop

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all, this fic has been bouncing around my brain for a while now and I felt like it was time that I write it up. 
> 
> As always please kudos and review!

The heavy beat of the music rattled the picture frames that lined the staircase down to the lab as Happy jogged down them. Peter was late for school again and Happy promised Pepper that he would be on time today – one out of five days wasn’t too bad.

“Hey, Pete we gotta…” Happy stopped, his hand falling away from the door keypad. A small twinge of pain went through him as he watched the scene taking place in the workshop. Peter was rolling back and forth between the Mark 47 and the computer desk, a pencil held between his teeth.

“JARVIS be a dear and run that again for me,” Peter said as he looked at the code scrolling on the computer screen. Happy noticed that Peter’s leg was bouncing tapping along to the song – it had been a coffee morning it seemed. 

“Starting now Sir,” JARVIS replied. The suits helmet light up and the ark reactor started to flicker to life until it was shining brightly in the middle of the chest piece. Peter jumped up with a shout of triumph, the papers on the desk and the pencil in his mouth when flying into the air. He fist pumps the air smiling. 

“Congratulations Sir – the Mark 47 is fully operational,” JARVIS said.

“See I told you it was going to work! I just need a little love!” Peter said excitedly.

“Shall I start a full diagnostic scan, Sir?” JARVIS asked.

“Might as well,” Peter said picking up a screwdriver from the desk and started walking around the suit adjusting things here and there.

A loud bang from the corner made Happy jump, breaking his concentration on the boy in front of him – Peter on the other hand shouted.

“Hey Dummy! Yeah, you! What are you doing huh? Why’s all that on the ground?” Peter said as he walked over the Bot that was currently rolling over a bucket of scrap metal.

“I’m going to donate you swear” Peter mutter while walking over, grabbing the dunce hat as he went, “You earned this, you know you did”

Happy sighed; they can be a little late today he thought as he walked back upstairs.


	2. The Suits

Pepper sighed and blinked her eyes to chase away the sleep that was slowing filling them, the board meeting had been going all morning and didn’t look like it was stopping anytime soon. She looked down and started to doodle on her note pad, trying to ignore what was happening at the other end of the table.

She and Peter had been called into the meeting early this morning by a rather insistent board. The topic – the Iron Man suits, all 47 of them.

The topic had been a dark cloud hanging over their heads ever since the events of last year. The suites themselves were locked away down in Tony’s…no Peter’s workshop staying untouched and out of sight. Pepper knew that Peter had JARVIS check in on them from time to time, but none of them has seen the light of the workshop floor in months.

A yell startled Pepper out of her doodling, her head snapping up. Peter was on his feet. His suit jacket long since taken off and thrown over the back of his chair, he had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his is tie was gradually getting looser.

“No! This is not up for discussion. The suits are not Stark Industries property and will never be Stark Industry property!” Peter argued his temper starting to flare up. Pepper watched on and as one of the board members stood up to face Peter.

“Your father,” he started, but Peter cut him off with a raise of his hand, his eyes flicking to hers for a second then settling back onto the man in front of him. Coldness filled them and Peter squared his shoulders. 

“My father wouldn’t have even taken this meeting! He would have told you to shove your ideas of making the suits public, all the while telling you how much of a bad idea it was.” Peter snapped back harshly, his hands fisting at his sides.

“With all respect Sir, your father is not here.” The same gentleman argued back, a gasp went around the table and several people shifted uncomfortably. Pepper let out her own gasp at the look on Peter’s face, the hard jaw clench and the flick of his eyes sizing up the man in from of him. It shouldn’t still shock her how much he looks like his father, but every time it steals her breath for a moment and the pain in her chest returns.

After a moment Peter calmly spoke his voiced filled with authority and determination.

“Yes my father may not be here but I know what he would say. He would say, you can forget it, you want my property? You can’t have it! If you would like I can also put you in touch with a certain senator and you can ask him how this conversation ends. Because believe me, it will end the same for you all here today.”

“Mr Stark please, we need to think about...” The man tried again, but he was cut off again by Peter, who anger had raised again.

“No!” Peter said, slamming his hands down on the table. He breathed hard for a moment then started the gather his things, shrugging on his jacket and buttoning it with cocky ease. He walked around to Pepper’s chair and offered her his arm.

“You can’t have the suits. They were left to me, they are therefore my property. End of discussion! This meeting is over. Next time you drag my mother and me into this room it better be for a better reason. Good day gentlemen.” Peter said with a slam of the boardroom door.


	3. Grief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This got a little sadder then it was meant to...sorry.

Pepper leaned against the door watching her son move around the workshop, a sad smile pulling at her lips. She loved and hated that she still had moments like this, the moment when she would double take when she heard Peter speaking to JARVIS or when he moved a certain way around the workshop. She tried not the laugh when Peter dropped a screwdriver and a soft “shit” could be heard over the loud music. She has originally come down to let him know that dinner was ready, but had stopped when she saw him tinkering with one of the cars.

“Why won’t it fit dear?” Peter asked the ceiling.

“It appears to be on backward Sir” JARVIS replied, with a hint of sarcasm to his voice.

Peter looked back down at the piece of metal in confusion his brows pulling together, after a moment he nodded.

“Of course it, I knew that,” Peter said flipping the bit around in his hands and slipping it into place.

“Of course Sir, always a pleasure watching you work” JARVIS replied

“Yeah yeah,” Peter said waving a hand over his shoulder.

A ding came from one of the computers on the desk and Peter stood up so fast that Pepper had a moment of concern fill her, but relaxed when JARVIS informed Peter that the construction was finished.

“Great, show us the good JARVIS,” Peter said as he stood near one of the main platforms. The ground in front of him opened up and a suit appeared from below, slowly rising to stand on the platform.

“The Mark 48 Sir” JARVIS said as the face plate of the suit flipped open and the suit opened up.

“We did it buddy,” Peter said a slight catch to his voice as he shuffled slightly on his feet, his hands ringing together, his eyes roaming over the suit sadly. He sniffed, drawing his lip into his mouth.

“That we did Sir. Shall I start with the paint, Sir?” JARVIS asked, the suit closing itself back up and powering down. Peter cleared his throat and ran a hand over his eyes and turned away from the suit and back to the computers.

“Sure thing buddy, hot rod red. Same as always” Peter said tapping away at a few keys on the computer.

“An excellent choice as always Sir. ETA for completion time is 4 hours” JARVIS said, as the suit was lowered back down under the floor.

“I might also advise Sir that dinner is ready,” JARVIS said as Peter started to flick through a notebook on the desk. He nodded let JARVIS know that he heard him.

“Let Mum know that I’ll be up in a moment. I just need to…um…” Peter’s voice trailed off as he looked back to where the suit had been. He crumpled forward, his arms wrapping around his stomach. He pushed his mouth against his shoulder trying to hide his face. 

“Understood Sir. I will let her know” JARVIS said softly, dimming the workshop lights and turning down the music.

Pepper stood for a moment, watching her son’s shoulders move up and down quietly. The urge to take him in her arms was what at an all-time high, to comfort him and wipe away the tears that she knew were falling. But she wouldn’t, her boys were one and the same and he would come to her once he was ready, just like his father used to. She quietly slipped back upstairs before she spoke to JARVIS.

“Thank you JARVIS,” She said as she leaned against the kitchen counter top, her fingers wiping away the tears that had gathered under her eyes.

“A pleasure as always Mrs Stark” JARVIS replied.

Heavy footsteps on the stairs alerted her to Peter’s arrival; she hastily turned around wiping her eyes one last time and painted a smile on her face.

She would never let him see her cry, no matter how much she was hurting.

After all, Starks were made of Iron.


	4. The truth is...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry.

“You can do this” Peter said to himself as he straightened his tie in the mirror, he ran his hand over his face and stared back at himself.

“We Starks are made of Iron” he whispers to himself.

“Yes we are.” Peter looks up to see his mother, Pepper, standing behind him. She is staring at him; she bites her lip to stop a sob from escaping.

“He would be so proud of you,” She says a tear running down her cheek. Peter moves forward to pull her into a hug.

“I miss him, more so on days like, this” Peter said into his shoulder. Pepper nodded.

“I know, I miss him too. But having you here makes it easier.” Pepper said running her hand over his hair. Pepper pulls back and takes his face between her hands.

“You are so like him. That sometimes I forgot that it’s not him banging around in the workshop or yelling at JARVIS and for that split second, this weight is lifted from my shoulders. But then you do something like um…laugh or say something that he wouldn’t and it’s like that weight is just dropped back on my shoulders and I’m reminded that your you, and I’m me and his not here. I love you, you are my last piece of him, the thing that he ever gave me and if I could lock up here and never let you out of my sight if would. But I can’t, because the world that he fought for deserves to have you out there making it better. Protecting it,” Peter reaches up to wipe the tears of his mother’s face.

“I will. I will make him proud and I will see that his sacrifice is not wasted.” Peter said, pulling his mother into his arms, so she can sob into his chest. Once Pepper’s sob begins to slow down, Peter moves her away from his chest rubbing his thumbs under her eyes.

“God, I never wanted you to see me cry about your father, no matter how much I was hurting. I need to be there for you, I needed to make you my first priority.” Pepper said, tears welling again. Peter nodded and took her hands in his.

“And you did, which is why I think you should take time mum. Take some time away. Go to the cabin for a few weeks, I can hold the fort down here – I mean, after today we will have a new CEO and I think it would be good for you.” Peter said, watching the panic fill Pepper’s eyes and she moved to pull away.

“Mum…mum look at me. You need to grieve; you need to spend some being sad and not having to worry about me seeing it. Alright?” Pepper nodded.

“Why don’t I go and see that Uncle Rhodey hasn’t killed any reporters and give you a minute.” Pepper nodded her eyes still watery and she wipes them away.

“I love you mum,” Peter said, placing a kiss on the check and leaves before he can hear her reply. He closes the door and leans against it, hearing the telltale signs of his mother breaking down. Her pained sobs that he had only ever heard once, the night that they were told that his father had died. He rests he his head back on the door and closes his eyes.

“What’s going on? Is that Pep?” Rhodey askes, Peter opens his eyes and looks sadly at the man.

“After the press conference mum will be spending some time at the cabin,” Peter said firmly, a look of recognition flashes in his uncle’s eyes at his tone and he nods understanding.

“You go on, I’ll bring your mother out.” His uncle said pushing him gently away from the door, he opens it and Peter sees his mother sitting on the ground her back against the mirror crying.

“Oh Pep…,” his uncle said, entering the room and locking the door behind him.

Peter stands there for a moment staring at the door until a Stark Industries staff member says it time for them to start.

He says thank you and follows the lady towards the press room. They stop in front of a set of big double doors and he takes a deep breath and pushes them open. He is instantly assaulted with camera flashes and yells from reporters as he makes his way to the stage. He smiles, what his father called a PR smile and askes everyone to please take a seat. Just before he was about to begin, he sees his mother and uncle enter from a door at the back of the room. His uncle in his full air force uniform and his mother the perfect picture of a CEO, there are no signs of the events that happened just before, not even a hair out of place.

Peter clears his throat and taps the mic, “Thank you all for coming today, I’m sure that everyone has better things to do on Friday afternoon so we will try and keep this short”, Peter pauses and looks at his uncle. Rhodey smiles and nods.

“My mother, CEO Stark Industries Pepper Stark and I have called this conference to make a few announcements. Firstly, as of next week my mother will be taking a more low key role within the company, she will still be an owner and she will still own half of the controlling shares, this will not change. But what will be changing is the Stark Industries CEO. So on behalf of my family and the board of director of Stark Industries, I am pleased to announce that I will be stepping into the role of CEO of Stark Industries as of immediately.” There was a loud roar of reporters all gunning to have their questions heard and camera’s flashing away more than before.

“Yes, we will start with the lady in the blue jacket!” Peter yelled and pointed to the blonde woman in the second role.

“Alice Greyson sir, from the Daily News. What has driven this change and why so sudden?” She asks in a clear loud voice. 

“There has been no event in which this change is reflected upon. My father took the helm when he was 21 and it seemed to work out just fine for him. Next questions please…”

For the next thirty minutes, Peter referred to his pre-written note cards, smiled, laughed, answered, dodge and navigated around questions ranging from “Is it true that the company is in trouble?,” to “Is it true that your mother has been deemed mentally unsuitable for the role?” and “Is it true sir that you are dating..”.

When the time came for Peter to ask for the last question he picked an older man from the fourth row. The man stood up and looked at his notepad.

“Can you confirm Sir that you will be stepping into the boots of Iron Man?”

The question hit Peter like a truck; he didn’t even think to prepare himself for this kind of question. Any questions regarding Iron Man or Tony Stark has been far and few between since the second Snap. Stark Industries staff moved to escort the man from the room, but Peter raised his hand shooing them away.

“It’s fine – I was expecting this question today if I’m being honest” Liar his brain said and he smiles his PR smile to the crowd, giving himself a second to gather his thoughts. 

Peter catches his reflection in one of the windows behind the last row of reporters. Hair brushed back, facial hair neatly trimmed and suit finely fitted and he double takes for a moment, his brain trying to understand what he was seeing. The man that he thought was long gone was staring back at him and it was then and there that he made his choice. Taking a breath he looked back to the reporters, blocking out there yells and the camera flashes. He glanced down at his note cards and the words blurred, he shook his head trying to break away from the panic that was creeping in. Looking back up he caught his mother eyes from the back row and they stared at each other for a moment, having a silent conversation. He then smiled and she sighed shaking her head, leaning over to whisper something in Uncle Rhodey’s ear, he looked up at Peter said what was most certainly a bad word and then covered his face with his hand and laughed.

That was all that he needed.

“I am my father’s son.” He said into the mic, the reporters fell silent, “and it is my responsibility to protect his legacy, his life’s work and I’m not going to answer this question, by bullshitting my way through it using with words written by people that didn’t know him.” He picked up his note cards and dropped them on the ground.

“I have inherited a great many things from my father, a great many things. Some of which I didn’t even know I had until now. My father wasn’t a perfect man, we all know that. But he was a good man; he stood up for what he thought was right and fought…” Peter’s voice cracks, he coughs to clear his throat, “Excuse me…and he fought so that our world would be protected. He sacrificed his chance of coming home to his own family so that others could go home to theirs. I will never be able to fill the shoes of my father and I hope I will never have to make the sacrifices that he did. But this world that he died for, its protection and its bone-crushing weight", he glances a look to his mother, he can see the tears returning to her eyes, "now falls on my shoulders and mine alone and you can be dam sure, that I will protect it.”

Taking a deep breath he looks back at his reflection again and sees his father’s face staring back at him. Peter squares his shoulders and looks back at the crowd.

“So to answer your question, the truth is...I am Iron Man.”


	5. The Hoodie

Rhodey was leaning against the workshop door, as watched the teen sadly; flashes of another 15 year old filled his mind making his chest constrict. Peter was sitting at one of the workbenches doing his homework, his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth as he concentrated on the math problems in front of him. His legs were too short the reach the ground so he was kicking them back and forward, his heels banging against the bar stool the sound echoing around the vast warehouse.

“Shit…” the Peter said loudly and threw his pencil across the room, Rhodey tried not to laugh. It still sometimes blinded sided him how much this kid was like Tony. Peter lent down to rest his head against the bench, breathing deeply. Rhodey watched as the teen stood and walked over the glasses cases that stored the retired Iron Man suits. Pepper had asked Rhodey to disarm the suits about 10 years ago; he had taken out all the reactors from their chest plates and disconnected them from the JARVIS’s mainframe. They were for want of a better word, empty.

Peter looked at them for a moment then turned back to the workbench and searched through one of the draws. It was then that Rhodey noticed the hoodie the teen was wearing. It was well worn, fading in patches from being wash and rewashed. It had holes in the sleeves and one of the shoulder seams was coming loose. The M-I-T in red capital letters on the front was slowly peeling away with each wash. The young boy paused what he was doing for a moment and reached up to run his hand over the faded writing.

So he was surprised and worried when Peter let out a quiet whoop of joy when he found what he was looking for. An arc reactor. He must have made it himself because all the know arcs were locked away and secured. Peter slid one of the glass panels open and started prying the chest plate off the Mark 47. With a loud clang, Peter absently threw the loosened piece of metal over his shoulder on to the ground, his fingers moving back to lock the arc into place and he stepped back. For a moment the workshop was quite, but then the whirring sounds of the suit waking up filled the room and the arc flickered to life.

The head of the suit snapped up, its blue light eyes stared at Peter.

“Step” Peter commanded and the suit took a step out of its glass case to stand in front of Peter.

“Hey Dad” Peter said, reaching down to pick up the dropped chest plate.

“I know I shouldn’t be doing this, but…” he said looking down at the piece of metal in his hands sniffing. “I aced my math quiz today. Mom said I was going to but…you know and I build a circuit board on electronics which was fun. Ohh and the science fair is coming up, I thought I might show off the updates I have made for Dummy.” Rhodey watched as the ten became more animated as he spoke about the science fair, then rush away to grab the update that he was talking to the suit about and held it up for it to look at. He then began listing off all the specs of the new model and mentioning how he didn’t think it would win but it had been fun to make. Rhodey smiled, remembering the time a 15-year-old Tony had come running back into the dorm planning on showing him the newest update for his robot that he had been working on. Tony had been so excited that you would have thought he just won the lotto.

He heard Peter sigh, breaking him out of his memory.

“I gotta go, Mom will be home from work soon and she doesn’t like me down here all that much. Bye, Dad.” Peter said sadly, looking up at the suit with the tiniest glimmer of hope that it would answer back. It didn’t.

“Back” Peter commanded and the suit took a step back and up into his glass case again, Peter reached up and disconnected the arc. The blue light left the suit's eyes and it kind of slumped into a restful pose, its head falling forward. Peter quietly slide the glass panel shut and walked over the start packing up his homework and to hide the arc back in the desk draw.

Rhodey left quickly after that, not wanting to be caught by the teen. He ran into Pepper when he made it back to the lounge room, she had been removing her shoes at the front door.

“Hey,” she said throwing her shoe into the hall that leads to the bedrooms, “when did you get here?” she asked walking into the kitchen.

“A little after Pepe got home from school,” He said taking a seat at the kitchen bench. Pepper nodded or at least he thinks she did, her head was already in the fridge finding something to make for dinner.

“How does pasta sound?” she asked, her voice slightly muffled.

”I was thinking of taking Peter to MIT for a visit,” Rhodey said suddenly, Pepper jumped banging her head on the inside of the fridge. Straighten up she looked at him confused.

“What brought this on?” She asked leaning against the opposite side of the bench.

“Well his 15, it’s time to start thinking about colleges and I know Ton…” he stopped, Pepper’s eyes had begun to water and she was biting her lip.

“Pep, if you don’t want me to,” Rhodey said, reaching out to place his hand on hers. Pepper shook her head, a tear falling down her cheek. She hastily wiped it away with the back of her hand.

“No, you should. You’re right; Tony would have wanted him to go there.” She said quickly turning back to the fridge, as Peter’s steps could be heard on the staircase.

“MIT it is,” Rhodey said as Peter stepped into the kitchen still wearing his father’s MIT hoddie.


End file.
